"Come on, come on! If you've got the guts, take a swing at me!"
He thrust his head in front of Mo Buyu, his tone practically begging to be punched.
"I'd like to see just how mighty your Righteous Alliance really is!"
Killing intent surged in Mo Buyu's eyes. Though he already knew the Joyous Union Sect had become one of the Seven Great Immortal Sects, could a person's impressions really change just because someone said so?
His impression of the Joyous Union Sect was still stuck in the past.
Think about it: back in ancient times, if a Joyous Cultivator harassed a woman, what did that mean?
It meant they were going to refine her into a furnace!
"Fuck your mother, you son of a bitch!"
A curse suddenly rang out from beside them.
Bam!
The drunken Joyous Cultivator went flying.
Everyone turned to look and saw that the one who'd attacked him was a towering, bald brute, his muscles knotted and bulging.
His granite-like muscles strained against his white tank top.
Broad-backed and burly, with eyes like copper bells!
"Ahhh!" The Joyous Cultivator who'd been kicked away let out a scream. "Who was that?! Is the Righteous Alliance going to start another war with our Immortal Sects?!"
Even now, he didn't forget to pin the blame on someone else.
"Start a war, my ass! You drink a couple of ounces of piss and forget what kind of trash you are. You worthless piece of shit!"
The brute pounced on him like a tiger. As the Joyous Cultivator lay on the ground, fists as big as clay pots rose and fell over him without pause.
"Fuck you! Did I let you speak for me?! Huh?! You motherfucker! You piece of shit!"
The brute cursed as he beat him. At